Curbing the Bluto-Bloat

Beatrice said I sounded like Popeye. The Sailor Man. The old cartoon from the 1930's that I watched in syndication growing up in the 1970's. Popeye the pipe-smoking protagonist who loved his sweetheart Olive Oyl and protected her against his nemesis Bluto, the bully who was constantly trying to take her away. Popeye was always the underdog until he ate his supercharged superhero food: a can of spinach. 

Yes, kids. Eat your spinach so you can grow up to be big and strong...I didn't think either of our kids had ever watched Popeye. 

"Do you know who Popeye is, Beatrice?" I asked her. 

"He's a pirate," she said. "You sounded like a pirate."

I got so tickled I nearly spit up. I thought that was the funniest thing I had ever heard. Both our kids, Beatrice and Bryce, laughed because they realized why I laughed.

I caught my breath and said, "Nope, not a pirate. A sailor. Literally, 'Popeye the Sailor Man'. Toot-toot. That was the theme of the old cartoon." I say it for them. 

"They both sailed the seas, Dad," Bryce said.

I snorted laughter. "True, but Popeye was a sailor, not a pirate. Now, do you know what made Popeye big a strong?"

I waited. It was now clear they didn't really know the Popeye cartoon, but I wouldn't stop this comedy train.

"Fish?" Beatrice said.

"And beans," Bryce added.

Another round of laughter between the three of us.

"What? Sailors eat fish," Beatrice said.

"And wouldn't you have cans of beans on a boat?" Bryce said.

I couldn't stop laughing. It was just so funny to me. So sweet and honest. 

"Oh my, kids. That's so funny. No, Popeye would eat a can of spinach, get big and strong, handle the bad guy, Bluto, and save the girl, Olive Oyl."

"Spinach?" Beatrice said.

"Are you mansplaining Popeye, Dad?" Bryce said.

More laughter. The whole thing just kept cracking us up. I love these kids! It's since become an ongoing joke for us, what Popeye eats to get super-powered strong and fight the bully Bluto, instead of spinach. For example, I'll ask what everyone wants for dinner, and I'll hear the kids call out:

"Fish and beans!"

Goodness, we need more of this levity today. In a world filled with bullies and worse, sometimes I don't think there's enough supercharged spinach, fish, or beans in the world to curb the Bluto-bloat. 

But our kids give us hope that there is. And laughter, too. Toot-toot. 

A Long-Term Well-Being Win

My best friend Robby of 45 years always likes to tell the story of how he almost wasn't part of our long-term friend group. The one that keeps getting together year after year, decades after high school. We first met in 7th grade, and while we became best friends later on in high school, my best friend in 7th grade at the time, Brad, saved Robby from being bullied in wood shop class. Back then I was a skinny, asthmatic, shy, and fearful kid, not a hero, and was relieved and grateful with Brad's intervention. I was also grateful that Robby and I befriended each other through goofy humor and the music of Cheap Trick, Kiss, and many other rock groups at that time.

Our long-time friend-group origin story birthed sometime between our sophomore and junior years in high school. That's when, Robby jokes, he was "included" in our group of friends. It wasn't like one day he got a pass, or any of us for that matter. We had already been amalgamating into this cohort for a few years, based on mutual affection, trust, support, shared interests, communication, respect, humor, and more. 

The thing with me was, I struggled to exclude others. Even when I probably should have. Beyond Robby, my other close friends back in high school, and family, I've had many acquaintances and friends from many differing backgrounds. From college to work to other parents of kids ours go to school with. What I know now, but did quite understand then, was that there was always something to learn from others, friends or not. Sharing knowledge and experiences with one another was how I grew as a person and how it's shaped my life awareness and belief systems over the years. Still is.

The hard part was and is the adulting. My nature was always to be liked, and to exclude others was to not be liked. That can get you in trouble when you're in middle and high school, always trying to please, with it only to backfire on you when you do and say the wrong thing to people about other people. Mercy me I had some failures there.  

But as I failed, grew,  and evolved, there were some difficult adulting decisions to make -- getting a divorce and ending an old friendship from our long-time friend group, just to name a couple. I had to learn boundary-setting and how to exclude others when it came to my own happiness and well-being, sanity and safety, and unfortunately not always empathically either. Conversely, I had to learn that I wouldn't always be included with others and their activities, even when hubris shoved my empathy and understanding to the ground like a bully and said, "What the hell?"

And now our teens are learning about inclusion and exclusion with their own friend groups, and like most normal teens, they want to be liked and included. They need their own space, too, and boundary-setting is new to them and a struggle, but we listen and provide parental and our own experiential feedback. We tell them they don't always have to include, and they will be excluded, and that's okay. 

Boundary-setting and exclusion for well-being and safety is one thing, but exclusion based on fear, ignorance, prejudice, and to purposely hurt can lead only to painful isolation, loneliness, or worse, for both perpetrator and victim. That's a lesson for us all. 

But if they have enduring friendships based on mutual affection, trust, support, shared interests, communication, respect, humor, and more, then it's a long-term well-being win for sure. As I've written before, I'm grateful for the dear inclusive and loving friendships I've had over 40 years now. Blessings to them. I wish the same for our teens as adults.